When The Shy One came over for our second date on Monday
night (He brought Hershey Kisses and two kinds of wine. We painted watercolors together!
What a dear.) I didn’t want to spend too much time on the ropes, gorgeous as we
both looked in them. (He did such a good job putting a harness on me for the
first time!) With The Shy One, it’s much less about the kink than about the
CUDDLING. He’ll hurt me when I ask him to, and he doesn’t mind getting spanked
(Oh! Just the cutest butt in the universe! Have I said that before? Are all the
butts the cutest butt in the universe? Probably.) but mostly, it’s the CARESSES.
He’s a very snuggly sweetheart, and that’s his pet name, Sweetheart—he is
decidedly NOT a Boy.
The Shy One kisses, fucks, and communicates with the
extremely welcome attention to detail of a happily married man. I want to send
his wife a thank-you note for every one of his expert kisses. OH, the KISSES.
Today, I’m a little jangled because it’s sinking in
that I *like* him just as he needs to disappear for a month. (Just physically
disappear, he’ll still be able to send texts and adorable Bitmojis of the two
of us and maybe even call sometimes.) I won’t see him for most-if-not-all of
April because of Ramadan. I admire the commitment and tradition so much, but
also I cried a little bit about it this morning.
Which is silly. Because this is all good news! I like
a good man with a kind heart and a solid foundation—yay!
Back to his visit Monday night. For a tiny little
while, after paintings and ropes and sex and me making nervous jokes about our
music choices having too many feelings, he pulled my hand up over his heart and
fell asleep. I’m not allowed to joke about the feelings-y music anymore because
“All I Need Is a Miracle” came on my spring playlist. Because of course it did.
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